Nobleborn
by Sutori-Artifex
Summary: The Last of House Aurelius, Avular "Avul" Aurelius has escaped to the province of Skyrim in search of a way to give the Aldmeri Dominion the old "eye for an eye" treatment. What he finds is much more than petty revenge. Join him as he finds himself in destiny, adventure, friendship, and romance. (Rated M for Language, Violence/Gore, Horror, and Suggestive Content)


**Hey! Sutori-Artifex here with a NEW story! This time it'll be about SKYRIM. Yeah, we all saw this coming… (probably not…)**

**I wanted to make a few things clear. This story is based on my playthrough of The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, as well as the little inner-roleplay I did with myself while playing… I need a life… badly.**

**So… The main character's name is "Alexander Aurelius" in-game, but I've changed the first name of the character because HMMM…. SOUNDS FAMILIAR… WHERE HAVE I SEEN "ALEXANDER" IN THIS WRITER'S GALLERY…? (Aurelius existed before Clarke. So Alex Clarke owes his existence to this guy actually :D)**

**I modded the game. Heavily. I want the mods to exist in this story, so I want to start with some general information regarding the mods, this story, and some info needed for my watchers who may not have played an Elder Scrolls game.**

**For Avular's profile, check my deviantART account's gallery. **

**Delete Spaces.**

* * *

**MODS USED:**

**(As story develops, new mods will be posted in prefaces like this one as to not spoil the story! Only character, place, weapon/armor etc. mods will be used in the story. UI, script, or ability mods (like jump-height mods) will not be posted. Mods listed below, as used in the Chapter.)**

**AND NOW: Because it's me, I like to put locations and dates as subheadings before dropping a new setting on my readers.**

**Here's a Calendar used in TeSV:**

**MONTHS**

**_Morning Star = January_**

**_Sun's Daw = February_**

**_First Seed = March_**

**_Rain's Hand = April_**

**_Second Seed = May_**

**_Midyear = June_**

**_Sun's Height = July_**

**_Last Seed = August_**

**_Hearthfire = September_**

**_Frostfall = October_**

**_Sun's Dusk = November_**

**_Evening Star= December_**

**DAYS:**

**_Sundas: Sunday_**

**_Morndas: Monday_**

**_Tirdas: Tuesday_**

**_Middas: Wednesday_**

**_Turdas: Thursday_**

**_Fredas: Friday_**

**_Loredas: Saturday_**

**Sorry about the long rant. Enjoy the story finally!**

**Oh, and I might change the dialogue between characters a bit, down the road. That's just me taking liberties with being a Fanfic writer.**

**Even though it is a given: I DO NOT OWN _THE ELDER SCROLLS_ SERIES. I DON'T OWN SKYRIM, BOTH THE GAME AND THE PROVINCE OF. ALL I OWN HERE ARE MY ORIGINAL CHARACTERS AND MY INDIVIDUAL DRAGONBORN.**

* * *

**Nobleborn**

**Imperial City, Cyrodiil (Sun's Height 201 4E)**

_They came in like a flash of lightning. About a dozen of them broke down the door to our Manor in the Tiber Septim district formerly known as the Talos Plaza district. "House Aurelius is to be taken into Thalmor custody on orders of Aldmeri Councilman Herecine effective immediately!" cried one in a black robe with yellow trim as he fired a bolt of electric magic into the ceiling, likely hoping that the sound would garner attention. Others in golden and red armor stormed the entrance-hall, rounding up our servants. I was on the stairwell, just about to head downstairs to the kitchen to speak with the Head Chef about the morning meal tomorrow when the Thalmor burst in. I turned tail and ran like Oblivion to alert my family, although I knew I was spotted when I heard the clanging of Elven armor behind me._

_"Father! Mother!" I cried, "Wake Stagul and Sonida!" I said, using their traditional Nordic names over their Imperial names, Silucius and Caelia. They knew what this meant, especially since my expression screamed it all; Thalmor were in the Manor._

_They sprang out of bed, and Father turned to his display case, one of many things I was never allowed to touch until I inherited the Manor. He popped it open and revealed an heirloom of the Aurelius family, a katana of Akaviri (or similar) make. A black scabbard with golden lace where the hilt met the scabbard. He presented it to me and looked at me somberly. "You remember what I taught you about swordplay?" he asked, and I slowly nodded my head, taking the katana from his hands and placing it on my hip. "You need to leave, my son, they'll be everywhere soon enough and we can't have the entire family go down in flames," he said as he took out a backup weapon from underneath the bed, a steel blade. "I will hold the Yellow-Skinned tea-sippers off. Go! Go get the other heirlooms and take Stagul and Sonida with you!" Father cried as he ran past me and rushed for the Thalmor justiciars, blade raised in the air as he shouted profanities in the Altmer language (a mandatory second tongue for any Noble who's anybody in Cyrodiil). Their swords clashed and he held his own, distracting the Thalmor by leading them down the hall to allow me to get to the twins' rooms._

_"Stagul, Sonida, come with me, Father says we need to leave, Thalmor are in the manor, they're tearing the place up looking for us!" I warned, and both twins hopped out of their beds and left their respective rooms to follow after me. We had made it downstairs where at least two Thalmor wizards were waiting. Swiftly, I managed to strike them down before they could whip out any advanced spells on me. Their blood was on my hands, and I'm not sure if it was adrenaline or my contempt for the Aldmeri "Dominion", but I didn't regret a thing._

_"Brother, what about the refugees?" Sonida inquired, to my dismay I realized that she was right about them: They were the reason the Thalmor were here. They were Talos worshipers and we had harbored them! We couldn't blame them for this because nobody knew about them. A visitor had to have squealed, and most assuredly, he or she would die once I found him or her. Regardless, we had to get them out of here._

_"Stagul, Sonida, go get the refugees," I said, retrieving daggers from the wizards and tossing them to the twins, sheathed of course, "I will go get the other Family Heirlooms!"_

_They did as they were told, catching the daggers mid-air and drawing them out of their scabbards. I watched as they descended downstairs to the kitchen where they'd obviously go to the cellar to retrieve the Talos Worshipers. I myself went downstairs, but to the stairway to the right of the Grand Staircase, rather than the left. This led to our armory. A Nord without an armory was a complete milk-drinker as Stagul put it. Why milk was such a stigma in our culture was way beyond me, after all it strengthened bones and teeth, and tasted amazing with the right kind of alcohol and the proper amount of milk put in, or so I've discovered._

_That's not the point, damn it._

_I arrived in the Armory to find Thalmor ransacking the place, turning over display cases and ripping doors off of locked wardrobes. With a beam of pure, unadulterated Arcane magic, I dropped the justiciars with little to no effort. Red, swirling energy and yellow, jagged "electricity" enveloped their bodies as they fried from the inside. Any wounds were cauterized instantly. They had set fire to a number of dressers, which I extinguished with frost magic._

_ Inside one wardrobe which they had yet to mutilate by the time I killed them, a mannequin stood proud, displaying my father's armor that he never used. I assumed he once was a warrior of sorts, but under whom I wondered. It wasn't Imperial Legionnaire gear by any means. It was a red tunic with white sleeves, yellowed slightly from years of sitting unused. A white hood with a layer of red underneath, partially tattered at the edges. The pants were a shade of dark grey, or perhaps black, I couldn't tell in this lighting. Below the waist was a sort of kilt (skirt, perhaps? I wasn't sure at the time), also colored red. It only covered the sides and back of the legs down to the kneecap, revealing the front of the lower body as well as the black leather boots folded down at the tops to make four corners on each side of the leg. From the elbow down, there were two bracers of a leather dyed red and covered with a lacy, white material to create a particularly ornate design, not that I knew anything of fashion. Damn you, Sonida. The left shoulder was guarded with a pauldron, and attached to it was a cape of scarlet fabric, embroidered in white stitching. The other shoulder down to the elbow bore a plate pauldron fairly reminiscent of bones or scales of a sort. A little dragon's head carving rest on the shoulder-blade._

_Why Pa possessed this sort of armor I had no idea, but I removed it from the mannequin and hurriedly donned it. A perfect fit. I eyed myself in the mirror as I lifted the hood over my eyes (enough to hide them, but not so I couldn't see properly), and flipped the cape over my shoulder to cover it. I looked just like my father… I needed to go get him._

_I picked up the Family Bow from the ground and slung it over my other shoulder, grabbing a quiver of ebony arrows from a drawer to my left. The bow itself was made of ebony, but masterfully enchanted to potentially do more damage than the arrows it fired. Flame, and Aversion to the Undead. After hearing that for the first time, I wondered if my family used to be Vampire Hunters or something._

_I ran, heading up the stairs and out of the armory, back upstairs to the foyer, looking up the Grand Staircase to find my father defeated, bound by chains and gagged by a Thalmor captain. "Father!" I cried, readying my bow with an arrow and aiming for the captain's head._

_"My son, run!" he commanded, spitting out the gag, "You don't know how many of them are out there! We're in the Imperial City for Talos's sake!" As he said this, he was slapped by another Thalmor._

_"So not only do you harbor them, but you -are- one?" he interrogated, only to receive a wad of spittle in his eye. "My, my, you've got much spirit. Set fire to this Manor! Contain it around the edges so we don't light the city aflame, but destroy this manor, make an example of the now defunct House Aurelius! We'll deal with the little rebel down there!" _

_I fired my arrow, and it flew straight into the captain's windpipe, killing him in a merciful instant. The one who slapped my father retaliated with a thunderbolt that ripped the bow from my hand and left me twitching in pain. "Councilmer Herecine will have a delightful time torturing you, my boy!" he roared. Now I knew who ordered this. Thanks, genius._

_"GO!" my father roared, only to receive a dagger across the throat. Before my very eyes, the life of my father, my mentor, and the bravest man I ever knew, faded away. Telling from the direction his eyes were staring in, I would be the last thing he ever saw. I would have cried out, were the shock not unbearable. I couldn't believe it, and it just happened in front of me._

_ The Thalmor wizards had begun spraying the Entrance Hall with arcane fire, leaving me no choice but to run. I tried to call for Stagul and Sonida, but at that moment, they were thrown out of the left stairwell onto the floor as two justiciars followed and kicked them in the spine. The yellow-skinned bastards caught the twins! I ran for the bow and knocked an arrow onto the bowstring. I pulled back, ready to shoot and rescue the twins when the thalmor readied their shields and knelt down to defend themselves. A waste of ammunition that would be._

_I wondered why the Thalmor weren't taking my life and ending it here for my insolence, but I supposed they enjoyed my suffering as they made it impossible for me to turn the tables._

_A Thalmor soldier accompanying the arsonists lunged ahead, off the staircase, drawing her sword and rushing forwards to meet me. I parried the first blow, but her left hand switched to a backup dagger strapped to her thigh, she icepick-gripped it and successfully slashed me across the right cheek. I tilted my head back in anguish as the blade glided across the surface of my skin. Thanks to the distance between me and the soldier, it failed to strike my eye out, but it cut deep enough to later create a noticeable scar._

_I cried out, shoving the Altmer back, spinning 360, crouching down, and slashing her across the stomach with my father's katana, piercing her armor and cutting into her vitals. She crumpled to the ground, bleeding out as I paused and waited for merely a few seconds for another challenger that didn't come._

_A lone tear escaped my eye, concealed by my hood as it mixed with the blood on my face. I knew for a fact that if I stayed and fought, I could likely take down this specific group of Thalmor, but I didn't know how many were in the Imperial city. If I didn't leave now, I would most assuredly suffer the consequences. _

_So I turned. _

_And I ran._

_I did not look back._

_I remember running through the countryside, sticking around in a few places to the north of Cyrodiil. I would remain in the province for the rest of the month and half of another._

_From some banter I heard in the tavern up in Bruma, I learned of the Stormcloak Rebellion. Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak was rebelling against the Empire, which upset me a little, but he also wished to return Talos worship to Skyrim and kick the Dominion out. Any chance to destroy the Thalmor for what they did to me, I'd take it. I had to get into Skyrim unnoticed, however._

_Dusk fell, and I paid my inn rent and went on my way. I'll spare the details but I got over the border unseen for a time. Just as I thought that I could make it to a town or city, I heard the hurrying of horses and shouting of Legionnaires! _

_For a moment, and only a moment, I saw what I believed to be Stormcloaks, with a tall, bulky man in grey and tan clothing. Brown hair and a bushy beard, he carried a steel waraxe. He gave me a stoic glance which I knew was meant for me as everything went black._

**Helgen, Last Seed, 201**

That's when I woke up. I was bound like my father before me minus the gag. Only I was wearing rags instead of the Heirloom Armor. My weapons were gone and my coin purse nowhere to be seen or felt. I had become a prisoner… A man across from me with ragged, blonde hair raised an eyebrow as I panicked, trying to worm my way out of the rope that tied my hands together.

"Hey, you! You're finally awake," he said, leaning back a bit, eyeing my frantic arms curiously.

The blonde turned to me and spoke, "You were trying to cross the border, right? Same as us, and that thief over there!" he told me.

Said thief raised his own voice. "Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I coulda' stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell!" he said, then turning to face me. "You there, you and me… we shouldn't be here! It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants!"

The blonde spoke up again, "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

An Imperial soldier driving the cart scoffed, "Shut up back there!" he said, prompting me to lift my middle finger up behind his head from my bindings. He didn't see it thankfully, but the blonde man laughed a little to himself.

The thief looked to his left and sneered at the brunette with the noble outfit, the one who glanced at me when I was knocked out, likely by Imperial cavalry. "What's his problem?" he asked as the man grunted from behind his gag. Why he was the only one with a cloth in his mouth was beyond my knowledge.

"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the True High King!" the blonde said, scorning the horse-thief.

Said thief's eyes widened in utter horror. To say any less was an understatement. "Ulfric!? The Jarl of Windhelm?! You're the leader of the Rebellion… if they captured you…" he said.

I realized what he was getting at. "Oh gods, where are they taking us?!" we said in unison.

The blonde man looked down at his feet somberly. "I don't know where we're going… but Sovngarde awaits…" he murmured.

While the Horse-Thief panicked, the blonde turned his head to me and smiled. "So, what brought you across the border to begin with?" he asked. I was about to tell him the truth, given that he was a Stormcloak, an enemy of the Thalmor, he would trust me with my story. However, as my lips parted and I began to speak, our cart hit a bump on the road and I bit my tongue.

"Gah! Dann et!" I said, sticking my tongue out. I saw where it bled and it wasn't very bad, but it hurt like Oblivion.

"Let's just stick with names. I am Ralof, of Riverwood," he said, chortling at my misfortune.

I lifted my hands to my tongue to cast a healing spell, but it fizzled out with a pathetic, high-pitched "pew". The Imperials drained my magicka! Meh, I was a Nord. A tongue-bite couldn't keep me down. I sucked up the pain and my tongue withdrew into my mouth. I remembered to use my Nord name. I brought my voice to a whisper, hoping the Imperial soldier wouldn't hear me.

"I am Avular, of the Imperial City," I declared. Ralof seemed to know that name or something, because his eyes widened and he was taken aback.

"You lived in the Imperial City?" he asked me, and I sighed, for my cover wasn't blown.

"Yea, I lived in Cyrodiil all my life. Just now exploring Skyrim. I heard about you guys in Bruma and came to enlist… that went well," I explained, and Ralof lifted his bound hands to scratch his beard. It was comical to watch but I realized I was in no position to even chuckle to myself.

"I don't get it. Cyrodiilian all your life, and you want to throw off the Empire?" he said, and I'll admit he was a smart one for that observation.

"One word, and one word is all I need," I said to him.

In unison, we both nodded and said, "Thalmor," to which we sniggered at each other and ourselves.

"I should have known they'd be mixed up in this somehow… looks like the end of the road, though," he said as he turned his head to face the gates of a town. He turned back to the horse-thief. "Hey, what village are you from, Horse-Thief?" he inquired.

"Why do you care?" came the snide reply.

"A Nord's last thoughts… should be of home…"

"Rorikstead… I… I am from Rorikstead."

An Imperial notified a "General Tullius" that the Headsman was waiting and that we had arrived. Oooohhhh gods. Speaking of which…

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh… Divines, PLEASE HELP ME!" the thief panicked, now starting to get fidgety. First of all, I'm not even gonna bring up Talos, but what in OBLIVION is he doing praying to **_Dibella_** for salvation. Don't know about you, but I wouldn't exactly ask the goddess of borderline-prostitution for help when my neck's lined up with a chopping block.

As the cart entered the town, Ralof scoffed, looking over at General Tullius. "Look at him… General TULLIUS the military GOVERNOR… and it looks like the THALMOR are with him. DAMN Elves… I bet THEY had something to do with this…" he growled. My heart nearly stopped when the Thalmor were mentioned. I peered over Ulfric's shoulder to see a gold-skinned Altmer in black robes smirking smugly in my direction. Ralof continued, talking about the town we were in. "This is Helgen," he chuckled, "I used to be sweet on a girl from here… I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with Juniper berries, mixed in… funny. When I was a boy, the Imperial walls and towers… used to make me feel so safe…" he said, gradually bringing his voice down to a whisper. Damn, coming full-circle are we?

A little boy behind me made a few inquiries as to who we were and where we were headed. His father, predictably, sent him inside his house as a angry, feminine voice ordered for us to leave the carts when they stopped.

The carts came to a stop as we were ushered off by Imperial troops. A brunette with a parchment and pen stood beside a female captain (the source of the voice), a rare sight these days.

"Ugh. The Empire loves their damn lists," Ralof quipped, rolling his eyes. They called prisoner names and asked for confirmation of names, birthplaces, and races if it weren't obvious enough (Breton vs. Imperial vs. Nord made more sense, so I assume that's why they had that in the protocol). Ulfric Stormcloak moved off first and didn't have to say anything (as if he was in the position to speak) for them to know who he was.

Soon Ralof was called by name and town, and he confirmed it, marching off to join Ulfric. The Horse-Thief's name was revealed to be "Lokir" when he was called to confirm.

"You can't do this, listen to me, we're not rebels!" he said, running off, crying.

"ARCHERS!" the captain screamed. Sure enough, arrows flew from Imperial bows, slicing into the Rorikstead-native's neck, killing him instantly as he flopped onto the ground with a meaty thud. I rolled my eyes at his cowardice. I was still formulating an escape plan, happy to know that "run like Oblivion" was eliminated from the list of options

"Who are you?" I was asked by the brunette Nord in light, leather Imperial armor.

I huffed at the Nord and gave my name. "Avular…"

For a brief moment, there was silence. The captain and her lackey to the left were, presumably, giving me an inspection with their eyes, staring into my own light-blue eyes, 'like droplets of the ocean' my mother would say. They glanced over the tattoos on my face and arms. The tattoos on my arms ran in a tribal pattern from my shoulder to my wrist, the tops and bottoms a bright red, the centers pure, snow white. I was always told that white and red were "sacred colors" in my family. The white represented purity, and righteous causes for action, and the red represented the blood that was, unfortunately, often spilled in order to attain the goals set by aforementioned righteous causes and ideas such as freedom, justice, and the perpetuation of creativity and diversity in culture worldwide. Upon my face I had a red-colored tattoo of an Imperial design. It was hard to describe to be honest. I can't find the words for it. On the right side of my face, the tattoo was divided by a bright-pink scar wrought by the Thalmor soldier I killed just before abandoning the manor. A lock of my ebony-black hair fell into my eyes, and I blew it back into place. My hair was rather long, but such was the standard for the majority of Nords, we hirsute lot. Most of it was loose, but I had what my father dubbed a "Warrior's Wolf-Tail" as a sort of centerpiece, which would normally blend in with the rest of my raven-locks were it not for the white cloth band that actually made the wolftail (because 'ponytail' was a weak term according to my brother, Stagul) hold together.

"Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list," he said, slapping the directory with the back of his hand.

She sneered at me. "Forget the list," she spat, "he goes to the Block."

Looks like SOMEBODY's a sadist.

He sighed and shook his head. "Picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, eh? I'll make sure you receive a proper burial…" he murmured.

We were ushered over to stand before the Headsman in three horizontal lines. General Tullius spoke to Ulfric, saying that while some in Helgen call him a Hero, a Hero doesn't use a power such as the "voice" to murder the King and take a claim to his throne. Now I hadn't heard _that_ detail. We were then made to listen to a Priestess of Arkay give us all our final rites. Before she could finish, a Stormcloak in our line called out to interrupt her, "Shut up, and let's get this overwith!" cried a Stormcloak to my right.

Damn, he was a brave one… or insane. Either way I admired his unflinching spirit. He'd rather die than wait any longer in Imperial captivity. He stepped up to the chopping block and knelt down. The Imperial captain shoved him down onto his chest, his neck lined up with the block perfectly. "My ancestors smile upon me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" He said as the headsman brought the axe down hard on his neck. I couldn't look, and I turned my head away, shutting my eyes. I still heard the liquid noise which still sickened me as I knew what had come.

A moment of pause, and the captain-bitch was howling again. "You there! Nord in the rags! Step forwards!"

Ralof huffed, smiling awkwardly at me, "It was a pleasure knowing you, Avular."

"The pleasure was all mine, Ralof of Riverwood," I replied with a smile, stepping up to face my doom with honor. I knew that there was no escape. Not like at the Manor. What the Thalmor couldn't get, the Imperials were there to catch. I complied as the man before me had. Same procedure, same shoving, etcetera. As the Headsman was lifting his axe, I noticed something _massive_ flying in our direction. A loud roar echoed through Helgen as my eyes shifted around wondering what that thing was.

The Headsman set the axe down, scratched his head in curiosity, and lifted his axe back up. As he was about to bring it down, the whole ground shook as this _gargantuan beast_ planted itself on the tower behind the headsman. It shouted something in a foreign tongue, and like that the heavens bent to its will! The sky darkened a shade of red, and meteorites from the heavens collided with the town of Helgen, uplifting the paved roads and obliterating some buildings. I watched with such an odd mix of relief and mortal terror as the Headsman was squashed under a meteorite, both the former and the latter exploding into bits and pieces as it struck him and the ground under him. The energy of the impact produced enough force to shove me to the side and I rolled off of the chopping block, coughing in a fit to get the dust, smoke, and bloody mist-mixture from my lungs. I pushed myself up into a standing position as Ralof, who was unbound by flames kicked up by the meteorites, called for me to run for cover in a nearby tower. I sure as Oblivion ran for my life!

When we were safe, the fairy-tales started getting thrown about. "That thing is a dragon!" Ralof cried. "I thought they were mere legends!"

Ulfric had been unbound, his gag removed. "Legends don't burn down villages, Ralof," he said in a deep, inspiring, stoic voice that shook my soul.

"Whatever that thing is, we need to get out of here!" said a random Stormcloak besides me. I looked down at my own bindings and held my hands up along with my eyebrow.

"So… nobody cares that I still have my hands tied?" I asked, but was quickly hushed by the Stormcloaks, who told me that I needed to escape. Why I couldn't go with them I had no idea, but I hurried up the spiral staircase.

"There should be a ladder behind the tower that we…" said a Stormcloak in front of me. He was sadly cut off when the walls of the tower exploded into the interior, crushing him under debree. It barely missed me as I turned around to see the Dragon staring me right in the eyes. It inhaled, and screamed something that sounded like "YOLK TOUR SHOE", whatever in Oblivion that meant. I yelped, dropped down onto my back, hands barely in the air but resting on my chest as a blast of flame escaped the Dragon's mouth. It missed _me_ pretty much completely, but scorched the ropes that bound my wrists. I successfully snapped them apart and rubbed the wrists in relief as the Dragon flew away, thinking me dead.

"Go! We'll meet up outside, just go!" Ralof called as he and Ulfric turned tail and bolted out the front door. By Talos the logic here is infuriating me. I saw the dragon come back around for another flame attack when I took the chance. I leapt out of the hole in the tower, and time seemed to slow for me as the Dragon opened it's jaws, ready to scoop me from the sky. My heart skipped a beat as it just scarcely missed me. I hit the floor of the Inn's second-level and it splintered beneath me. Covered in dust and debris, I rolled forwards onto my feet and brushed myself off, trying to look bravado even as I staggered to the side in shock. I straightened the collar of my ragged tunic and smiled inelegantly, unsure of what to make of this experience.

I brushed a hand through my long but well-kept, pitch-black hair to shake the dust and ash out of it, while walking forwards to the tables around the bar. I saw a few bottles of mead sitting beside a bowl of juniper berries and sighed. I took several bottles and stuffed them along the waist of my ragged trousers, not caring about looking like an idiot. I needed alcohol for this chaotic mess… what? I'm a _Nord_, get over yourselves.

Dashing out of the Inn, I discovered just how much Helgen changed in a few minutes. Children were screaming for their parents, running to the Imperial soldiers as the latter fought valiantly but in vain to down the dragon. People were dying, and I knew I would join them in death if I didn't keep moving. I spotted the Nord with the brown hair and Imperial uniform who had registered my name when I got off the cart. He was protecting an elderly man and the young boy who asked to watch the Imperials cut our heads off earlier. Just as the dragon incinerated a man lying on the ground, out of cover (presumably the boy's father, at which point my heart went out for the child). "You there! You're still alive? Bah, stay with me if you want to stay that way!" he called, and having no other choice, I listened. We came up to an alley between a wall and a building. One rather stupid Imperial ran ahead and was toasted to a crisp by the Dragon's fire-breath.

In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere of death and suffering, I chuckled nervously and looked over my shoulder. "Glad he went first… eh? Heh… heheh…" All I received was a cold glare from the legionnaire.

"Anyways," he said, clearing his throat in a curtly manner. "I'm Hadvar. Sorry about the confusion with you lined up for the Headsman's axe," he introduced himself, putting out his hand. Seems they weren't all bad up in Skyrim. I took his hand and shook it firmly.

"Alright. You don't want me dead. That's a plus," I said as he walked by me and made a run for cover. I followed suit and we came to rest inside another building, which was missing it's entire roof.

"Gods, one monster can do all of this?" Hadvar murmured, taking in the sights around him: ashes, burnt and smelly corpses, and lingering flames. I put a hand on his shoulder, as if that consoled him any.

"Let's just keep going, okay?" I said, taking out a bottle of Juniper Mead for him to drink. He looked down at the bottle then back up at me with a bewildered look on is face before apprehensively taking the bottle and uncorking it. He tipped it back and let the mead splash over his lips and down his throat.

"Yeah, let's go. Thanks for the drink… I guess?" he replied when he finished the bottle. He got up and ran out the nonexistant front-door and I followed. "General Tullius!" he shouted, raising his hand. This "Tullius" threw him a sword and sheath and told him to get out of Helgen. As he ran, I stood there to see if he'd object to a prisoner escaping.

"Run you idiot!" he yelled when he caught sight of me. That was a good enough answer for me as I sprinted after Hadvar. Ralof had actually made his way around, and was now the only thing in Hadvar's way.

"Ralof, you damn traitor, outta my way!" Hadvar boomed, threatening Ralof with his sword.

"Avular, c'mon, we need to get out of here!" Ralof called to me, hefting his iron waraxe off of his uniform's belt. I was now caught in the middle of two Nords both on factions that resonated with me. On the one hand, the Stormcloaks. They may have been fighting to destroy the Empire's ancestral hold on Skyrim but they were against the Thalmor and wanted to fix the mistakes of the past that the Empire made during the Great War. On the other hand were the Imperials. I've been an Imperial all my life… but they did try to cut my head off on a whim.

…

…

F*ck this, I'm going with Ralof.

Although as I was about to go, it turned out that I spent too much time waiting. The dragon had landed dead in the middle of the showdown and looked both ways at Hadvar and Ralof before returning its gaze to me. "Zoo lost dall" it said… or something along those lines. That's just what it sounded like at the time. I knew it wasn't Common.

Well, we were all pretty much dead anyways, so I was taking a gamble with this next move once I saw it inhale to breathe more fire. Feeling foolhardy, I yelled out for everyone nearby to hear, not in fear, but in fury, as I jumped up into the air, and planted my foot into the dragon's jaw. By a miracle, the dragon's head snapped to the left as it roared ferociously, clearly pissed that I just kicked it in the head. That was our chance. I ran for Ralof and grabbed his arm, bringing him into the keep as the dragon let out it's fire-breath in our direction. Just before I slammed the door shut I could see Hadvar escape through another entry-point. We kept running before we turned and fell down, propped against the wall, breathing heavily.

I didn't need to say anything. I just took another bottle of mead out and handed it to Ralof, who took it without question and downed it.

"That answers that question," he said, smacking his lips to taste the juniper berry mixed in. He tossed the empty bottle against the wall and watched it shatter into tiny fragments. I took a bottle out for myself and drank from it. Discounting this one I had just two left, which I would definitely keep for later. "By the way," he said when he finished, "You are absolutely insane." Ralof stood and wandered over to a fallen Stormcloak soldier. "Rest well, Gunjar… I will see you in Sovngarde," he muttered. "He won't be needing this armor," Ralof said, looking over at me as I finished my drink. "Take it, and his war-axe."

"Nah," I declined, standing up myself, "If we can just… find the dungeon… no doubt they'll have my gear in a chest of some sort."

Ralof stroked his beard, probably trying to remember something. "Come to think of it, when we were ambushed, I saw a man in white and red armor get bashed in the head by Tullius."

That was me alright. Also, good to know that somebody saw behind me when I blacked out. My thoughts were turned to the Stormcloaks, "So where's Ulfric?" I asked, and Ralof shrugged.

"Ulfric went to round up any others that survived. He sent me to come get you, Avular," he explained. That was nice of Ulfric to do. Ralof tried a metal door, shaking the bars a few times. "Damn it! It's locked. Maybe some of those Imperial dogs have the key!" he said to himself.

From behind, I could hear footsteps and orders being barked. I knew that voice anywhere. The same captain who was so oblivionbent on having my head lopped off. Time to get some payback. I motioned for Ralof to follow me, and we came to the wooden gate on the other side of the room, the two of us standing on both sides out of sight. I counted on my fingers as the gate was lifted. When I had no more fingers to put down, Ralof drew his axe and I readied a simple fire spell. I wasn't really 100% from the magicka drain, but the mead and the "nap" I took on the carriage helped a little bit, so I could cast basic stuff. Ralof went for the support and I fried the captain's face, pinning her down and continuing the assault until the spell fizzled out finally. Ralof slapped a palm to his face when he saw that I had drained my magicka on revenge and gestured at the Imperial's sword. "Your spells aren't going to save you. Besides you only know basic flames right now and/or your magicka's far too drained to do anything productive. Take her sword and let's get a move on. We have to find the others!"

I knew he was right, so I knelt down, retrieved the sword, and ran back to Ralof as he inserted the key into the door's lock. He must have gotten it off of one of the lesser soldiers while I was roasting the officer.

The trip through Helgen keep was not as much of a nightmare as I expected. We faced off against Imperials, picked up some Stormcloaks along the way. We stopped at the dungeon where sure enough, my Family Heirlooms had been sent ahead of me. I gleefully cracked open the chest and retrieved my katana, setting it on the ground next to me while I equipped the Family Armor. I flipped the hood over my head, crouching back down, picking up my sword, sheathing it and latching it to my belt. I turned for Ralof and the others to see.

"Strange choice of armor… I've only seen equipment like that in one place… who are you?" Ralof questioned me. I cleared my throat and gave my name. My Imperial name.

"Lucius Quintius Aurelius. Avular is my true, Nordic name, which is why I used it when you asked on the carriage," I elucidated with a high-class bow. Ralof narrowed his eyes, but I could tell he was dismayed from the sudden inhalation.

"An Aurelius? We intercepted some intel saying that House Aurelius was destroyed last month by the Thalmor when they were discovered to be harboring Talos worshippers!" Ralof finally responded. Well, at least he's heard of my plight. He put his hand out for the proper introduction. "Well then. Seems the Empire's betrayed us both eh? Time for us to betray it right back, 'Lucius', or, Avular Aurelius."

I took his hand and shook it firmly. "Well, that was a bit more of an introduction. I'm glad you recognized the armor. I was worried I was going to have to awkwardly confess like some milk-drinker later on down the road!" I jibed. Again I didn't understand the milk stigma, but I said it to fit in. Good going, Lucius.

Our little team kept exploring the keep until we came to the cave system connected to it. After sneaking past a bear we managed to make it out of Helgen alive, to see the dragon flying over the barrow in the distance.

"It's gone… good. I don't want to stick around to see if it comes back," Ralof murmured from behind a rock. "I thank you for your help, Avular. I probably wouldn't have made it out of there without you," he said to me, pausing for a minute, expecting me to go on without him or something, "You should go to Windhelm and join up with the Stormcloaks. I'll put in a good word with you for Ulfric," he told me. I finally started walking down the path when he followed after.

"I think we should split up. Go back to Riverwood, which I believe is closeby if the map in Bruma was correct, and talk to whatever family you have there. I'm going to this Windhelm place," I declared, marching off.

"Wait," Ralof said, "My sister runs a mill in Riverwood. I think that you should get some rest and directions first before doing anything hasty. The damn Imperials have their greasy palms in every hold and every city except Windhelm itself. Going out there alone is a suicide mission!"

I stopped instantly and turned back to Ralof. I pointed to my Aurelius Family blade and armor. "I can chop down anyone or thing that comes my way," I reminded him. He only laughed as the other Stormcloaks walked off to go find Ulfric.

"Last I checked you were drained. Your magicka's not coming back that quickly, boy. Not after having a drain placed on you. C'mon to Riverwood. We'll get you fresh, cold mead besides the ones you got in your bags, a bowl of hot beef stew, and a soft bed. The Sleeping Giant also has a bard and people to give you good directions to Whiterun. There you can get a wagon to Windhelm. It's neutral territory up there," said the Stormcloak warrior. I'll admit, the offer was extremely tempting, but I had business to attend to, and I had to attend to it quickly. Then again… he was right about my magicka…

I decided to trust Ralof and accept his offer.

We traveled down the path, seeing the sights, fending off a couple wolf-packs. We came to a quaint little town alongside the babbling river. Obviously this would be Riverwood. We met up with Ralof's sister and the former spun an entirely true but highly inspirational tale about how we survived the dragon attack on Helgen.

To my surprise, the latter offered me a few gifts in thanks for helping her brother make it out of Helgen. I decided to take an empty book and quill-pen for keeping a journal. I didn't need the vegetables or drinks, and I couldn't bring myself to ask for jewelry. I could get by on necessities, besides, I had picked up some Septims in the Keep, and sold some junk at the Blacksmith just before coming to the mill.

I thanked Ralof and company and told them that I was headed to the inn. True to my word, I walked in, set my things down by the door, paid my rent in advance, and took a seat by the fireplace to listen to the bard, Sven. I took out my new book and pen and began to write, using an inkwell also given to me by Ralof's sister. Thankfully it was full.

_My name is Lucius Quintius Aurelius, now known here in Skyrim as Avular Aurelius. I am from a Noble House recently destroyed by the Thalmor. We were of royal blood, distantly related to the Septim dynasty of Emperors, sadly we were too distantly related to be in line for the Imperial Throne. The Thalmor, agents of the Aldmeri Dominion, took my family away from me… killed them all. I couldn't save them. My father commanded me to run, to save myself for fighting against impossible odds in the Capital of the Empire would lead to House Aurelius' ultimate demise. I escaped to Skyrim where the Legion mistook me for an illegal immigrant (which in all fairness, I technically was). As I was thrown in with a Stormcloak patrol led by Ulfric himself, I was sent for execution in Helgen. And, what many will never believe until it is too late: A Dragon attacked the town! While I may be stressed about almost dying to a dragon, I have to say, it could not have come at a better time: My head was on the headsman's choppin' block!_

_A Stormcloak named Ralof helped me to escape and offered that I stay in Riverwood until I can recuperate and get directions to Windhelm to join the Stormcloak Rebellion._

_27 years of undying loyalty to the Empire and they let the Thalmor eradicate my family?! I will bring them down here. Skyrim, their very birthplace… I will destroy their hold__over it like they destroyed my family._

* * *

**MODIFICATIONS USED IN THIS CHAPTER:**

**Avular's Armor: _DreamBurrow's Regal Huntsman Armor (Skyrim Nexus)_**

**Avular's Katana: _Insanity's Dragon Katana (Steam Workshop)_**

**Aldmeri Councilmer Herecine: A character in _MadFrenchie's Fight Against the Thalmor III: Aldmeri Domain (Steam WS and Skyrim Nexus)__  
_**

**That Arcane Beam Spell: A spell in _Midas Magic Evolved v17.1 (Skyrim Nexus and Steam WS)_**

* * *

**Sutori-Artifex here! How's it going, guys? I got a load of inspiration from Skyrim and this was dying to get out of my head!**

**So "Lucius Quintius Aurelius" is actually "Alexander Quintius Aurelius", but I figured that:**

**1. It wasn't Imperial-y enough**

**2. Where have I heard Alexander before...? *coughcoughKaireeAntarshouldknowtheanswertothiscoughcough***

**So I renamed him Lucius. That's roman-ish, right? :D**

**His Nordic name is Avular and I will continue to refer to him as Avular "Avul" Aurelius. **

**Now, I can assure you that I will try to keep the future chapters more or less a secret/surprise, but I can say this:**

**Assassin's Creed concepts are going to make appearances. If the Site Rules and Terms of Service or whatever state that I *MUST* move this over to the crossovers section, so be it, but right -now- I'm keeping it in vanilla Elder Scrolls Series so that Senpai will finally notice me c:**

_**I have decided to remove AC Characters in favor of more Original Characters. Mentions of an Assassins Brotherhood (other than the Dark Brotherhood) will still be a major plot-point however. **_

**In terms of the story itself I think I did an amazing job on this, concept-wise, I'm going by what I do in my PC Skyrim playthrough. Mods included, so this will be a lot of fun. If you think I should continue this, let me know. Ask questions, criticize constructively, and always leave a review when you favorite! If you favorite I know you liked the story, but without a review I don't know -why- you favorited.**

**Sutori-Artifex out. Keep it classy FanFiction!**


End file.
